


freedom's flight

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [283]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Gen, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, POV First Person, Patriarchy, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story of a horse born of blood who danced across the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	freedom's flight

**Author's Note:**

> Title: freedom’s flight  
> Written: October 28, 2015  
> Prompts: Greek mythology, releasing Pegasus ; Any, Feathers from Pegasus

This is a story of a  
horse born of blood  
who danced across the sky.  
Gods and men alike  
hungered to ride  
the winged steed who dared to fly. 

But such a beast,  
created from death,  
could only be cursed, yes?  
He neighed a warning,  
bugled from one end of  
the earth to the other  
for none could catch  
much less tame  
a son of the horizon. 

And how they tried,  
men and gods alike.  
Foolish and lusting,  
with bridle and tack formed  
for no less a purpose  
than harnessing a moonbeam;  
they chased after  
the horse born of blood,  
seeking to tame a star. 

I tell you now,  
as my mother told me,  
twirling a feather of stardust and water. 

There are some things, daughter,  
she said, feather dancing across her fingers,  
that cannot be broken.  
There are some things, she murmured,  
gazing up at a dark sky full of stars,  
that gods and men alike  
will break themselves trying to break.  
There are some things, she laughed,  
holding out a feather pale as bone,  
as long as my forearm,  
there are some things, child,  
that men and gods alike will never understand. 

I tell you now,  
as my mother told me,  
for you are my daughter  
and old enough now to know. 

There is a horse born of blood  
who dances across the sky.  
Do you see him?  
He returns when he wishes to,  
for treats and for somewhere to rest.  
He does not come when called –  
Remember that.  
He is not tamed,  
has never been broken.  
But as he was born of blood,  
and as we bleed with the cycle of the moon,  
he is ours as we are his, daughter. 

Remember, my sweet –  
Men and gods alike long to ride him  
far up in the sky, horizon to horizon.  
What they seek to take,  
he offers to us freely. 

Do you see this feather?  
It is the only one he ever shed.  
Magic does as it wills,  
whatever gods or men say.  
Look up at the sky.  
Freedom is ours,  
as long as we know it cannot be tamed.


End file.
